


Red Chrysanthemum

by serpentcorelyss (CosmicallyLyss)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Bad Weather, Cuddles, Florist Daishou, Flower Symbolism, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Tattoo Artist Kuroo, Thunderstorms, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicallyLyss/pseuds/serpentcorelyss
Summary: (reposting all hq works under a diff pseud)" “You’re thinking so loud I can basically hear you.” Kuroo’s lips were pursed. “You’re thinking about how bad walking home in this weather would suck. But you’re not doing that. Just come home with me for the night.”“No-” Daishou declined the offer almost immediately. “I couldn’t intrude your home, especially on such short notice.” "
Relationships: Daishou Suguru/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	Red Chrysanthemum

**Author's Note:**

> i can write cute shit too

Daishou shivered as he opened the door to a local tattoo parlor - his favorite one, the one where he got all his work done, the one where his best friend worked - and winced when he felt the chill of the air conditioner. It was pouring outside - more than pouring, really - and most city life noise was being drowned out by thunderclaps. Even walking half a block from Daishou’s own workplace - a flower shop - to the tattoo parlor left him soaked to the bone. His tee shirt, soft and dark green, was sticking uncomfortably to his skin; the same held true for his blue jeans. His shoes had probably been given the worst treatment from the elements - his sneakers were sodden and his socks were soggy. “Numai?” Daishou called out for his best friend, closing the door behind him, and stood on the parlor’s welcome mat. Rivulets of water were dripping off his body, but he was careful to not get any of it on the actual floor. “I closed up shop, so I’ll just wait here in the front til you’re ready, okay?”

“Daishou?” A voice rang out from the back of the parlor, and it certainly wasn’t Numai’s voice. “Is that you?” It was the voice of someone Daishou had known since a very young age. Someone who could be considered an old friend, perhaps an old rival…

“Kuroo?” Daishou answered back. “Where’s Numai?”

“He got a phone call a few hours ago talking about some emergency.” Kuroo still hadn’t left from the main working area of the shop. “He left after he got it. Did you need him for something?”

“My car’s been getting fixed up in a repair shop, and I was counting on him to take me home from work today…” Daishou explained, still shivering from the cold air against his wet skin. For all Daishou’s life, it had been a running joke that he was cold-blooded. Just another reference to his serpentine features, and a decently funny way of explaining why his body temperature was always so low. Now, more than ever, Daishou wished that his body wasn’t naturally so cold. “Dammit…”

“Public transit? An uber?” Kuroo suggested, finally walking to the front of the shop to see Daishou. “Wait, hold on, why do you look like a drowned rat?”

Daishou ignored the small insult. “Have you looked outside at all?” Kuroo’s eyes shifted from Daishou’s body to the shop’s windows. His eyes went wide when he saw the torrential downpour terrorizing the streets. “The weather’s the most horrid it’s been in a while. They closed down all the buses and I’m not gonna ask someone to risk their safety driving me home.”

“The great Daishou Suguru _caring_ about people’s safety…” Kuroo snickered. “Damn, dude, I’m amazed.”

“Oh, shut up.” Daishou’s tone was more playful than venomous. “Didn’t we give up the petty rivalry in middle school when I moved out of Tokyo?”

“I’m just busting your chops, man…” Kuroo was raising his hands in mock surrender. “Anyway, how’s the shop going?”

“Pretty good as usual; thanks for asking.” Daishou flashed Kuroo a genuine smile. “I actually reconnected with an old high school friend today. She came in wanting a bouquet of roses to use in her proposal to her girlfriend of six years.” It had made Daishou feel a little lonely, but he’d never say that. “And what about you, y’know, how’s work over here?”

“Just… normal. No fun customers recently.” Kuroo shrugged his shoulders, a nonchalant _‘what can you do?’_ “When’s your next appointment, Daishou? I don’t think I’ve gotten to work on you in months.”

“Next week. Thursday the seventeenth at noon sharp.” Daishou answered instantly, and then started to laugh at his own excessive enthusiasm. “I’ve been itching for new ink for way too long.”

“I don’t think you’ve told me what you’re getting yet.” Kuroo mused, tapping his foot against the ground. “I’ve still gotta finish cleaning up, but if you wanna talk about design ideas after, I’m totally down.”

“O-Oh!” Daishou was a little startled, but there really wasn’t a good way to tell one’s tattoo artist they wanted to get a piece inspired by the artist themself. “Uh, yeah, that sounds nice, thanks.”

“Awesome.” Kuroo stepped behind the cash register and fished around in one of the drawers until he found a small white towel. He threw the cloth at Daishou, who caught it with a perplexed expression. “You haven’t stopped shaking like a leaf since you stepped in here.” Kuroo explained. “So just dry off the best you can and chill out up here for a little and I’ll come back with my sketchbook when I’m done.” Kuroo spun around and walked back to his tasks when Daishou gave him a thumbs up.

Daishou texted Numai a quick ‘hope everything’s okay’ message, and tried drying himself off to the best of his ability, but it wasn’t very successful, seeing as the towel was just one square foot in area. He was able to change his hair from soaked to damp, and wipe the raindrops off his face, but that was about it. Still, it was the thought that counted. And Kuroo was thoughtful. He always had been; Daishou had known this about him for years. Still, it was only in recent times once they reconnected after high school that the same thoughtfulness had been directed at Daishou. Finding out Kuroo and Numai worked at the same place was intriguing to Daishou, and admittedly, it was better for his body modification experience. Numai was a piercer whereas Kuroo was a tattoo artist. Daishou was a fan of both kinds of body mods, and having two men he had a rapport with being so close to his workplace bode well for appointments. The industrial piercing he had in his right ear had actually been a result of an impromptu visit to the parlor during a half hour break some time ago.

“The towel didn’t do much, I guess.” Those words signified Kuroo’s return to the front of the shop. He was holding a large black book and a cup with what looked like various art supplies inside. “You’re less drippy, though, so I guess that’s good?”

“Yeah…” Daishou agreed. “Less, uh… drippy.”

“Now c’mon, where are you getting the new piece?” Kuroo’s lazy smile turned into a giddy grin. “I gotta know everything about my favorite customer’s new piece.”

If there was any heat in Daishou’s body, it would have rushed to his face upon hearing ‘favorite’ come from Kuroo’s mouth. “Like… My hip bone. On the left side. I know it’ll hurt like a motherfucker but it’s not gonna be too big. I’d show you exactly where I’m thinking but, uh…” Daishou glanced down at his soaked pants.

“What _uh…_ are you talking about?” Kuroo asked. “I’m gonna have to see the skin anyway when I ink it. But… you’re not modest so I don’t think you’d get a little weird about showing skin.”

“No, you’re right about that.” Daishou agreed. “It’s just, like… With my jeans all soaked I can’t pull the one side down easily.”

“So just take them off.” Kuroo suggested the idea like it was nothing.

“I- Wait-” Daishou wasn’t the type of person to get flustered easily, but he firmly believed anyone would have gotten tripped up if the person they had a crush on asked them oh, so coolly to just _take off their pants_.

“Daishou. I’m a tattoo artist, not a pervert, okay?” Kuroo’s words were laced with his laughter. “Jeez, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Uh… Um.” Daishou stammered, quite dumbly if he had to add.

“Maybe you’re just starting to get sick from the cold.” Kuroo mused, resting his chin between his thumb and index finger. “How far away do you live?”

“A forty minute drive east…” Daishou admitted. The commute wasn’t terrible, but to _walk_ it, and in the rain nonetheless… That wouldn’t be fun.

“No.” Kuroo said, furrowing his brow.

“The hell do you mean _no_ , Kuroo? I’m pretty sure I know where I live.” Daishou fixed Kuroo with yet another puzzled list.

“You’re thinking so loud I can basically hear you.” Kuroo’s lips were pursed. “You’re thinking about how bad walking home in this weather would suck. But you’re not doing that. Just come home with me for the night.”

“No-” Daishou declined the offer almost immediately. “I couldn’t intrude your home, especially on such short notice.”

Kuroo stepped closer to Daishou after placing his supplies on the counter with the cash register, and carded a warm hand through the man’s damp hair. Maybe Kuroo just didn’t know what personal space was… That was the reason Daishou came up with. “Daishou,” The man in question didn’t answer. “We’re friends. We’ve been friends since elementary school, man. And I’d be a piece of shit if I let you fend for yourself in these conditions. I’m a five minute walk south from here. And I’ve got a giant umbrella. So just come home with me, okay?”

“Kuroo, I can’t j-”

“That’s not how you say ‘thank you’.” Kuroo interrupted. Daishou tried to search his hazel eyes for anything that said his offer was a joke, but he couldn’t find anything.

“Thank… Thank you, Kuroo.” Daishou’s eyes were practically boring holes into the floor.

Kuroo grinned as he snaked his fingers through the belt loops on Daishou’s jeans and pulled the man closer to him, leaving mere inches between their bodies. “See? That wasn’t difficult.” Daishou couldn’t form words. He legitimately could not kick his brain into gear and come up with something to say. Being in such close proximity to Kuroo was making his head short-circuit. “Now c’mon, we should get going.” Daishou was still stunned into silence. He just stood there, nodding quietly as he watched Kuroo finish closing up the shop. He worked quickly and quietly - efficient as always, Daishou noticed. “I’ll hold the umbrella,” Kuroo announced as he opened the shop’s door for Daishou. “Y’know, since I’m taller.”

“It’s just four inches, you big loser.” Daishou frowned at Kuroo as he exited the shop. Daishou had almost forgotten how intense the rain was. The wind practically blew the large raindrops _sideways_ , and Daishou’s hair was already back to whipping around in his face.

“Four inches that I have and you don’t.” Kuroo teased. He locked the shop’s door, shoved the keys in his pocket, and opened the umbrella. After he positioned it above his and Daishou’s heads, he stretched his hand out for the shorter man’s. “Here, gimme your hand.”

Daishou blinked a few times before questioning “Why?”

“I don’t trust you to not run away from me.” Even under the black sky, Kuroo’s feline eyes were sparkling with mirth. Daishou huffed - trying his absolute hardest to look annoyed - and laced his hand through Kuroo’s. “Shit, man, your skin is freezing.” Kuroo exclaimed with a giggle. “Seriously, how do you even _live_ like this?”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Daishou reasoned as he and Kuroo started walking, obviously led by the black-haired man. “And it’s not like I really ever make physical contact with people, so it can’t bother others.”

“No physical contact?” Kuroo lamented melodramatically. “I think I’d die.” For the rest of the walk to his apartment - it was short, just like Kuroo had promised - Daishou had to explain all the reasons as to how he could ‘possibly survive’, in Kuroo’s words, going days at a time without stuff like hugs or cuddles. Kuroo had directed him to just go straight to the shower, assuring Daishou that he’d take care of everything like the umbrella and soaked clothes. Feeling this level of _cared about_ had made Daishou almost a little uncomfortable. Like the feeling where it’s just a little too hot, and you can start to feel pools of sweat forming on your skin. It’s not that Kuroo’s hospitality was bad - it was much appreciated, actually. Daishou just… didn’t have experience in this department. And factoring in Daishou’s crush, the situation was tipping from a friendly favor to something straight out of Daishou’s daydreams. Daishou should have expected that the situation would only get worse for him when he stepped into Kuroo’s bathroom. It was filled with the taller man’s distinct scent, a mix of cinnamon, citrus, and tattoo ink. It nearly made Daishou dizzy, but between potential lightheadedness and staying in soaked clothing for another second, Daishou preferred the former. He had to fidget around with the shower faucet for a few minutes before he got the hang of how it worked - there was no way he could just go out and ask Kuroo, that’d be embarrassing - and when he found a comfortable temperature, he disrobed and stepped into the nearly scalding stream of water. Daishou could feel all the tension in his body start to melt away along with the ache in his bones from the downpour. He had no idea how much time he spent in the shower - all he knew was he didn’t know the last time he felt so at ease. When he reread the bottle of shampoo he’d used, his eyes scanned over the word ‘aromatherapy’. Maybe that was it? That was probably it, Daishou believed. He didn’t want to get out of the shower; being warm after so long was a feeling he despaired to rid himself of. He gave himself a countdown from ten, and shut off the water after his third repetition of the countdown. The towels Kuroo had told him to use were white and fluffy, soft against Daishou’s skin. He scrubbed at his dark hair until it was just barely damp, and rubbed down his body until he was completely dry. He wrapped the towel tight around his waist, and even held it against himself with one hand, not trusting gravity or physics to be on his side.

“Uh, Kuroo…?” Daishou called out as he left the bathroom, flicking off the light and shutting the door behind him. “I, um, I need clothes…”

“I’m in the den, it’s to your right.” Kuroo answered back. “I’ve got stuff for you, though it might be a little big.”

Following the sound of Kuroo’s voice, Daishou ended up right in front of him. He was wearing nothing but a pair of red sweatpants, and his hair was over his face as if it had just been washed. “You’re not wearing a shirt.” Daishou said quite matter-of-factly.

“You are correct,” Kuroo answered with a cheeky grin. “But then again, neither are you.”

“But I have a reason!” Daishou protested. “I just got out of the shower.”

“As did I.” Kuroo’s response left Daishou looking at him quizzically. “My best friend Bokuto lives next door. I explained the situation to him and took a quick shower at his place. Wanted to be ready by the time you got out, y’know?”

“Oh…” Daishou mumbled. “I see. That’s, um, nice?”

“You really don’t know how stuff like this works…” Kuroo meant his sentence to come out as a question, but his tone left it as nothing more than a quick observation. He stood up and handed the clothes he’d picked out for Daishou - a pair of boxers and a sweatshirt. “I showed you where my room was already. Just get dressed and call me in when you’re done. I’ll get stuff set up for us to sleep.”

“Right.” Daishou assented as he took the clothing from Kuroo. “Thank you again for all this. You didn’t have to offer your place for the night.”

“Oh hush.” Kuroo said as he waved Daishou off. “It’s not unlike me to be nice.”

Kuroo’s bedroom was nice, cozy. A twin sized bed, a desk with a laptop resting on it, what looked like two closets, two dressers. A mirror that spanned the height of the wall with posters covering nearly every surface. He pulled on the clothes and took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror. The boxers fit him surprisingly well, but the sweatshirt was huge on him. It covered his hands and most of his thighs. If it was this large on him, it had to be at least a little oversized on Kuroo, too. The taller man wasn’t that much bigger than him. “Kuroo?” Daishou asked, standing in the doorway. “Where should I put the towel?” At the sound of his voice, Kuroo made his way to the bedroom.

“I’ll take it. Here, you can go sit down on the bed and I’ll be right back.” Kuroo took the towel from Daishou’s hands with a gentle smile.

“Where are you gonna sleep, Kuroo? I don’t wanna steal your bed, being here uninvited is b-”

“With you, of course.” Kuroo’s smirk was hidden when he turned away and brought the towel to the bathroom. Upon his return, he saw Daishou sitting cross-legged on his bed, his pale face stark white. “Daishou, uh, are you alright?” He asked hesitantly, closing his bedroom door behind him as he entered the room.

“I think I should probably just take the couch.” Daishou’s voice was a little loud, as if he’d wanted to say that but kept it bottled inside, and now that he was asked, it exploded out of him with no control. “I mean, like, I’m already in your hair enough and this way when I take my phone off the charger in the kitchen and leave tomorrow morning I won’t need to potentially wake you up, and y’know, I’d just take up space and you’ve already done enough for me without you giving up half your bed just for my own benefit and-”

“I like you, Daishou.” Kuroo interrupted Daishou monotonously.

Daishou couldn’t speak for a few heartbeats, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “Huh?”

“I… I like you. I’ve been wanting to ask you out for months but no time ever seemed good. I figured taking care of you tonight would give me a good opportunity.” Kuroo explained.

“Red chrysanthemum.” Daishou responded.

“Red chry- Daishou, what the _fuck_?” Kuroo looked bewildered, and the randomness of Daishou’s statement sent him into a fit of laughter. Thankfully, Daishou took no offense to it and instead joined in with soft giggles.

“Stop laughing at me, dumbass,” Daishou stuck his tongue out at Kuroo. “I thought you wanted to hear about my next tattoo idea?”

“Oh!” Kuroo shouted, slapping himself in the forehead with his palm. “Alright, I get that then, but uh… Why bring it up right after I confess my feelings to you…?”

“A red chrysanthemum signifies love. Red reminds me of you, and the signature flower of November - your birthday month, y’know - is the chrysanthemum. I wanted to get it for you, Kuroo. I’ve, uh…” Daishou paused to breathe before making eye contact with Kuroo. “I like you, too.”

Kuroo didn’t know what made him blush - either the hopeless romantic who had fallen head over heels or the tattoo artist who had a love for pieces with significance - but something had led the blood to rush to his face and color his cheeks pink. “That-” He stammered. “That’s… Show me where you want it.” He asked as he walked farther into his room and sat down across from Daishou on the bed. His vibrant eyes didn’t move from Daishou’s dark green ones until the latter’s hands moved to push at the fabric of his clothing. One hand pulled the sweatshirt up to reveal part of his lower stomach, and the other hand pushed down the waistband of the boxers until his left hip bone was visible.

“Here.” Daishou’s voice was a whisper. His breath hitched in his throat when Kuroo’s fingers traced over the exposed skin.

“It’s going to look beautiful. What’s the flower for July?” Kuroo asked, his hand not leaving Daishou’s skin.

“Larkspur.” Daishou answered quickly.

“Does it come in green?”

“It does.”

“I’m moving your appointment to the next day you have off. I’ll get a matching green larkspur.”

“Kuroo…”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you only have one other tattoo?”

“Yeah, but I’ve been wanting another one for a while. This is the perfect opportunity to get one.”

Daishou exhaled a shaky laugh. “This doesn’t feel real. Maybe I am sick from the storm earlier. Maybe I’m hallucinating.”

“Right, right…” Kuroo played along, albeit sarcastically. “This is all just one gigantic dream, of course.”

“It’s not funny when you say it, Kuroo.” Daishou complained, folding his arms across his chest. Kuroo just sighed and leaned over Daishou to pull back the covers on his bed.

“Get under.” He nudged Daishou. “I gotta make sure you’re all nice and warm, tucked in and all that.”

“You’re so cheesy…” Daishou groaned but listened to Kuroo’s request and got himself situated under the sheets, laying down on his left side. “Are you coming or are you gonna watch me like some creep?”

“I don’t know how you like to sleep!” Kuroo pouted. Daishou thought it was adorable. “I wanna cuddle with you but you said earlier that you don’t do physical contact all that often so I don’t know what you’d consider to be okay and I didn’t wanna cross any boundaries. I want you to be comfortable, Daishou.”

“O-Oh…” A flush made its way to Daishou’s cheeks. “I, uh, um… Can I be the big spoon? I like holding things when I fall asleep and being held typically makes me feel suffocated so uh, that would probably work best for me.”

“Sounds good, Daishou.” Kuroo grinned at him before getting himself settled under the covers, moving around until his bare back was pressed up against Daishou’s clothed chest.

“You’re warm.” Daishou noted. Kuroo could already hear the sleep creeping up in his voice. “I like it.” Daishou hooked his right leg over Kuroo’s body to pull him closer, did the same with his right arm, and burrowed his head into Kuroo’s tanned back. “Thank you for tonight, Kuroo.”

“You’re welcome, Daishou.” Kuroo whispered. “Now get used to spending the night with me, okay?”

Daishou didn’t answer; he’d already fallen asleep. Dry, warm, and happier than he’d been in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> reposting is annoying hhhhhhhhhh


End file.
